Monsters' Love
by Adelaide's Cat
Summary: It wasn't her curse to bear, and yet fate made it that way. Now, drawn to her through the magic that binds them, the monsters come. And there's no way to escape. Not when the call for their mate runs so strongly in the monsters' veins. (MultiSaku)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Hahaha, I wish.

Also, in case you were wondering, MultiSaku means there's going to be several love interests-including quite a few who aren't listed on this fic's profile. But enough about future stuff, let's focus on the present and this chapter!

* * *

Chapter 1  


It was 87 degrees outside. Sakura didn't need a thermometer or an app to tell her. She could feel it in the oppressiveness of the heat, in the way it filled the air around the closed windows as though it were trying to break in. From her place on the floor, Sakura stared up at the closest window. Like all the other windows in the house, it was covered with several wooden planks that only let in thin slivers of sunlight. 

The entire house was an axe murderer's dream come true. A rickety staircase, creaky, debris-covered floors, and doors that squealed like being opened and closed was torture. Of course, Sakura scoffed to herself, of course she'd be drawn to a place like that. _It's always the creepy places._

She sat up, craning her neck a little, to drink some of her water. It wouldn't do her much good to wear it. Satisfied, she set the glass aside and resettled herself so her sweatshirt once again propped up her head. Her fingers drew shapes on the wooden floor beneath her. If she angled them just right, Sakura could see the chipped remains of her purple glitter nail polish. 

Sakura was the only human in the house. But that didn't mean she was alone there. Bees had taken residence in the attic. Termites left deep scars in the woodwork. And there were mice upstairs. 

They lived up in the second floor closet at the end of the hall. If Sakura closed her eyes, she could hear their tiny paws pattering against the ground as they hurried around their kingdom of a nest, minding the termites and the bees. When the mice got hungry, they would take trips through the hole in the far corner of the closet down into the pantry.

It was hard to say why the hole was there. Or, better yet, how the hole came to be. Maybe it was those termites, maybe it was an unhappy spouse trying to get revenge before finalizing a divorce. Maybe, though, it was just the house's way of refusing to support humanity anymore. A quiet resistance, one the house refused to end. Even now, after its last owners were long gone and its foundation was crumbling. _I will die on my own terms_ , the house seemed to say.

But houses were just things.

Sakura frowned, feeling that fluttering twinge within her chest. It pulled at her skin, like a wound attempting to scab over. Pulling and pulling and pulling. Fluttering and fluttering. Sakura gritted her teeth as the sensation intensified. Instead of curling in on herself, she pulled out her phone to check the time. The sun was going to set soon.

It was almost time.

* * *

In another realm, one that was both far and close from Earth, the trees were screaming. They didn't scream in the way beasts did, with mouths wide open. Trees didn't have mouths. But the trees had roots and branches and thick trunks. And so these trees curled inward, tearing up the ground as a sign of rage and pain. And as a warning to any foolish enough to get too close.

Even through their uproar, their pained screams, another cry of pain rang out. And it was this cry that drove the trees to cry out as well. It was this cry that made the trees twist their branches and trunks, to rip up their roots and rattle the earth, in an attempt to curl around what sounded like a tormented beast. Their master.

The cracks made by the branches and the trunks and the roots as they tried to pull in close revealed glimpses of a man collapsed on the ground. His fingers dug into his sides, tearing at the fine robes that adorned his body. He was blind to everything around him. Blind to the fresh smell of dirt. Blind to the ground that trembled beneath his crouched form. Blind to the snap and crack and groan of the trees as they circled him, trying to find what was hurting their master.

Hashirama was blind to it all, to everything except the hunger.

 ** _Eat. Feed. Kill._** He roared as the pain peaked, and the trees drew in closer. He needed to stop this…this, whatever it was that tormented him, that consumed him. The hunger had always been there but never like this. Before it had been a tickle of an ache. Something he could endure as he tended his plants and his territory. But now, like this, it was different. It had to stop, Hashirama needed to make it stop.

He slammed his head against the ground. Over and over. He was unaware of the blood that trickled in his eyes and the pain that came with it. There was only enough room in his mind for this pain. It needed to stop. He needed, needed….

 ** _Dig._**

Hashirama panted, chest heaving and revealing glimpses of skin that crackled like bark. Saliva dripped from his mouth as he stared with glazed, unseeing eyes at the blood that covered his hand. The pain jarred him again, and, with a roar fiercer than all the rest, Hashirama ripped open the ground and the barrier that separated all realms, tearing down, down, down. Because that was why he was here. Something was causing him pain.

 _Something hiding beyond his sight that only_ he _could feel._

It was there, at the edge of the pain, taunting him. He snarled and continued to rip the earth apart, even as he fell. He was getting closer to the source of his affliction. The air rippled, bouncing back as Hashirama left his realm far behind him. He didn't notice, didn't care. Because he would destroy it, crush it, devour every inch of what afflicted him.

The ground rattled as he landed, feet-first. Here, it was _here_. He—

"Wow."

Hashirama blinked, jolting as though he had just been doused by cold water. He realized he was standing, although Hashirama couldn't remember getting out of bed that morning. His robes were torn as though he transformed at some point. It also felt like drool, or something equally sticky and disgusting, was smeared over the lower half of his mouth and chin.

A pang of pain stopped him from wiping it away. Hashirama brought a hand to his forehead. Blood smeared across his fingers when he pulled them away. Did he…he hadn't hit his head getting out of bed again, had he?

He looked up from his hand, wincing at the rawness of his throat (He certainly wasn't sick, and he couldn't remember screaming). It was only then that he realized that he was no longer in the forest he called home. The air smelled of rot and mold and the wood that surrounded him felt brittle and was covered by a layer of paint. A den of sorts, probably for one of those "new age" ink-wielders. There was hardly light in the space, save for a strange blue light across from a young woman who held it.

She sat on the ground with her back against the shelter's wall. Pink hair framed a tired, pale face as green eyes stared unblinkingly up at him. He winced, feeling a twinge of—something under the weight of her stare. Those green eyes-not an ink-wielder then-shined in the artificial sunlight, like leaves in the summer sun. He….

 ** _Want._**

"Who," Hashirama rubbed his throat then tried again, "Who are you?" Despite his late brother's claims, Hashirama was not a fool. The pain that began to plague him decades ago had recently gotten worse. While he had never injured himself before—or destroyed his clothes—he was well aware that it was only a matter of time before the moments when he blacked out increased. He was only fortunate enough that no one was fool enough to enter his territory. The thought of the tragedies that could have occurred soured his stomach.

This young…creature was involved. That was the only way to explain why now, after so many years, there was no sign of the pain that came and went.

"Sakura." The woman, Sakura, replied, running a hand through her hair. Hashirama found himself following the movement with his eyes. Small fingers, small figure, small bones. Just what was this strange creature? One of those fae of the other realm, perhaps? Tobirama would have known, were he still alive. "It's technically my fault you're here."

Hashirama raised an eyebrow, "'Technically.'" He couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice, dabbing at his chin with his sleeve to wipe away the drool. Great Gaia, that was drool. "You make it sound like someone else is responsible."

 ** _Want._**

"My great great great grandmother got cursed by this guy she refused to marry," Sakura responded blandly. The blue light's glow gave her a glassy sheen. "I guess he wanted her to draw in monsters so they could rip her apart, or, you know, whatever struck their fancy. She dodged a bullet there, if you ask me." She sighed, as though mildly inconvenienced by the whole ordeal. Were it actually true.

"Unfortunately," Sakura went on, "the man was just as horrible at magic as he was at being a decent human being. The curse missed her, skipped over a few generations, and hit me instead." Her lips twitched into a bitter smile. Hashirama found he disliked how it looked on her. "I'm a real monster magnet."

 ** _Want._**

Hashirama blinked. "You're taking this rather well." But he knew that was a lie, could see it in the dark circles that lined her eyes, in the way she slumped against the wall. Hashirama wasn't sure if the poor creature could make any other expression besides the pained countenance she wore. "I take it I'm not the first," He added instead.

Sakura shook her head slowly, as though the motion was too much for her. "You're definitely one of the more polite ones." She took another look at him and grimaced. His face burned. He felt much like a child getting scolded by his mother. "Looks like the curse did a number on you. Sorry you had to suffer through all of that."

She was so young, the realization erasing any lingering feelings of self-consciousness. Even from where he stood, Hashirama could sense her fragility. Where he had centuries of life—and even more to come—her lifeline was so faint. She only had several decades of life left, and they would be fraught with beings who—

"I'm sorry as well." Sakura stared at him. He'd seen flowers the same shade as her eyes, had cultivated them so they could grow and fill the world with their vibrancy. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Wait for sunrise." She got to her feet, setting the light down. Hashirama made a move to follow her, only to find he was trapped in place. A circle of white grains, almost like white sand or snow, surrounded him. "When it comes," Sakura threw a bag over her shoulder that was nearly thrice her size, "go home. You won't feel any pain from now on."

"Wait—" Hashirama reached for her, and the barrier stopped him again.

"The barrier will hold you there in the meantime." She paused at what Hashirama realized was the exit. "I left you food, water, a blanket, and some bandages. If you don't cross back over at sunrise, you'll have to wait until the next sunset to try again. I made sure there was enough room in there for you to lie down too, but I wouldn't recommend sleeping. You might have a concussion. " Her voice was even, but Hashirama saw the shadow that crossed her face. Felt something within him crack at the way her eyes glistened for a moment from unshed tears. "Thanks for not eating me."

And then she was gone.

 ** _Want._**

* * *

Thanks for reading~


	2. Chapter 2

"So are we ever going to talk about last Wednesday?"

Sakura stared at Ino from over the rim of her to-go cup. Ino was staring at her cellphone,tapping at the screen with one hand while she held a sweet, iced monstrosity in the other. Judging by the barista's horrified expression when Ino made the order, it was a pain to make.

To anyone else, Ino would have seemed unruffled, poised as she was. But Sakura knew her long enough to know that Ino was staring too intently at her phone, that she hadn't taken a single sip of her drink, even though she occasionally swirled it around to melt the ice inside.

Sakura set her coffee down. "There's nothing to talk about. You dropped me off, I took a walk, and then you picked me up a little after sunset."

"You took _that bag_ with you Sak. The 'I'm either going camping for four days or heading out to bury a body' pack," The fragile facade Ino had constructed fell away as she finally set down her phone. Sakura shifted in her seat slightly, unable to handle the weight of Ino's blue eyes crashing over her, "I don't know what you keep in that thing," Glancing around quickly, Ino lowered her voice before leaning in and continuing, "but whenever you go off somewhere with it, you get this look."

"A look."

Ino nodded, finally taking a sip of her drink. "Yeah, you get all…intense. Like you're going to war, and you don't know if you'll make it back alive."

 _War, huh?_ Sakura, tapped her fingers against the to-go cup. She tipped it back, only to realize it was empty. Which was a shame-she needed more caffeine, but her wallet couldn't make those kinds of accommodations. "You make it sound like I'm doing something illegal."

"Are you?" The other denizen's of the cafe looked towards their table at Ino's outburst, but it seemed she could only see Sakura. "I don't know what you're doing anymore Sakura. We rarely hang out, and when we do, you always scope out the exits and sit so you can see everything. You're acting way too much like Martin Blank for me to feel comfortable."

"You finally saw _Gross Pointe Blank?_ _"_ Sakura asked. When Ino continued to scowl she sighed.

"Right, sorry." Sakura ran a hand through her hair, unconsciously glancing around the cafe once again. Nothing _seemed_ out of the ordinary. But she refused to let her guard down. It was yet another thing she couldn't afford. "I'm a law-abiding citizen, I promise. Things are just…really rough right now. It's fine."

How would Ino react, Sakura wondered, if she knew Sakura kept sachets full of protective herbs-herbs researched online and tested through onerous trial and error-in that pack, along with containers of salt? What would Ino say if she knew the candles Sakura burned almost religiously were to keep that tiny sanctuary she called home just that? Ino, who still had both of her parents, her home, and a future waiting for her. Sakura dragged her foot across the floor, watching the thin, gray line that appeared where the toe of her ratty sneaker touched the light, linoleum tile.

The sight of Ino's blue and brown pumps across from her own ragged sneakers only reinforced the reminder that they lived in different worlds (a figure of speech that seemed to become more literal with every passing day). The shiny gold buckle that secured the strap across Ino's ankle mocked Sakura. There was no freedom, there was no peace, and all the money Sakura had to her name came from her parents' deaths. Ino's parents had taken in Sakura for some time, but Sakura knew better than to stick around. Even back then, when she was only seventeen, she was well aware of the threat to their safety.

And all because someone couldn't take "No" for an answer.

"There, see," Ino gestured with her drink, making some of the whipped cream fall onto their table, "You have that look again."

"Just drop it, Pig." Sakura bit the inside of her lip, glancing out the window that faced the street. "Everything's—oh _no._ _"_

It was him. The monster from last week. Sakura tensed up, slowly reaching for her purse as she watched the man with long black hair pass by the cafe. He could have been overlooked, just another attractive face in the crowd, had it not been for the flowing red and black robes he wore.

Sakura had figured he was some sort of wooden elemental, given the bark-like appearance of his skin. But now, in daylight, he looked almost human. There wasn't any sign of the dark red lines around his eyes or on his forehead. The creature walked around with his head tilted back as though to take in everything this world had to offer, eyes wide and awed like a child.

A child that could easily rip anyone's head off now that he'd somehow broken through her salt circle. Ino. She needed to get Ino away from there.

"Sakura?" Ino tried to follow Sakura's gaze, only to start when Sakura grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the cafe's back exit. "Ow, hey, Forehead!" Ino whined as she stumbled in her heels "What're you doing?"

"We gotta go." This wasn't good. Sakura could just make out Ino's voice over the rush of water in her ears. Hot air greeted the pair as Sakura threw open the door, dragging Ino behind her. Sakura's hands became slick with sweat, dripping onto the pavement as she tried to get her only friend to safety. Because Sakura knew what the monsters could do. She knew that the creature on the other side of the building was only pretending to be human. That their brief conversation the previous week was just a ruse.

The monsters wanted her. And they always tore through anything that got in their way.

If only, Sakura thought, not for the first time. If only, if only, if only. Panic was a tight ball in her throat as the two women made their way out of the alley. Ino yanked her arm free with a grumble. But she still wasn't safe. After scanning the area, Sakura turned to Ino, "Go home."

Ino blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I said—"

"Oh no, I heard what you said.I'm just not sure where in our relationship you thought it was all right to act like some sullen, lone wolf action hero."

"Ino, _listen,_ _"_ Sakura reached for her, but Ino pulled back. She poked Sakura in the chest. Sakura was surprised Ino's manicure hadn't cut through the cloth of Sakura's shirt.

"No, _you_ listen." Ino snapped. "You are going to tell me what is going on—because we're friends, and I love you god dammit—or I'm going to the police or the hospital or whatever it is you need to stop acting like people are out to get you."

Sakura stared at her then. She didn't see Ino, the beautiful young woman who was well on her way to securing a position at the magazine— _Konoha!_ —that she was currently interning. Instead, Sakura saw the girl with short, blond hair and a wry smile who beat up her bullies and helped Sakura find her way out of her shell. Sakura had held those hands, spinning until they both got dizzy or while picking flowers to show to their families. Was it wrong to keep holding that hand, to want that for herself? To allow herself to link arms and show the world a bond that couldn't be broken by hot guys or melodrama?

"Ah, there you are Sakura!" The monster had found them.

Sakura cursed and pushed Ino behind her, putting space between her the the creature as he approached them. Once again, Sakura was struck by the friendly aura he exuded, how the smile on his face seemed cheerful. Almost sincere. For one crazy second, he reminded Sakura of one of her dad's friends or a favorite uncle. She shook off the thought.

"I thought you were leaving."

The creature paused at the ice in Sakura's words. He blinked, not even sparing Ino a glance as he then scratched at his cheek and let out a nervous laugh. "Heh, well, I _was_ , but then I realized I might never get the chance to visit a fairy realm again, so…."

"Uh, Sakura," Ino tugged at her sleeve to get her attention, "do you _know_ this guy?"

Sakura held her breath as the creature finally realized Sakura wasn't alone. His eyes fell from her face onto a spot over her shoulder, that change in attention searing Sakura's nerves. She braced herself for the inevitable moment when that cheerful mien would give way to something dark and hungry. Sakura backed Ino further against the wall, as though that would protect her from the mad animal—

"Oh, you have a friend with you! Sorry miss, I didn't see you there. I'm Hashirama, and you are?"

"Leaving." Sakura interjected, silencing whatever Ino was about to say with a sharp look over her shoulder. "She's leaving." Because, yes, this was a change. Definitely not a typical reaction, but it was a trap. Because Sakura knew better. Any smiles, any kindness, that came from a monster were lies.

She could still see _that one_ _'s_ smile as he approached her, leaving what was left of her parents to mar the walls and floors. On the worst nights, the loneliest ones, she would close her eyes and see it. Not her parents, but those eyes, purple and spinning as though hypnotizing her, forcing Sakura to forget everything else except for that voice.

' _I won't lose you too. Not to_ him, _not to_ them, _not to_ anyone _._ _'_

Sakura's lungs wasn't enough air and far too many bodies. And the creature, Hashirama, he was too close. Watching her too intently. Ino, she had to protect Ino. She couldn't lose Ino too. She _couldn_ _'t._ Sakura's hand fumbled inside her purse. Trying to find—

"You left your clove charm at home, Ugly."

Hashirama's face darkened. As Sakura watched, his skin began to shift, reverting back to the bark-like texture from before. A growl rumbled from deep within his chest. Ino gasped, clinging to Sakura as Hashirama turned his back to them. He crouched as though about to launch himself in order to defend his mate.

Over Hashirama's shoulder, Sakura caught sight of a pale, smiling young man with black hair making his way out of the alleyway. He reminded Sakura of a doll, with his short, black hair and long eyelashes that framed bright, black eyes.

"Sai." Sakura murmured, eyes landing on the paintbrush and small pots that hung from his waist. The tension in the air thickened.

"You were in quite a hurry this morning. You overslept and almost missed your coffee date with Ms. Yamanaka, I imagine." Sai continued. It was eerie, how his fake smile remained in place. That smile was too much like porcelain. Sakura was unlucky enough to see it break once before. "Not that clove will do you much good. Those websites you visit aren't always accurate."

Ino stiffened at the mention of her name. Sakura backed up further, as though that would shield Ino. Because of course Sai knew about Ino. Despite all of Sakura's careful planning, despite all the precautions she had taken, there was no way she could never cut ties with Ino. She was all that Sakura had left.

And now she was paying for her selfishness.

"I take it _this_ is what you meant before?" Hashirama asked Sakura, tone even. Out of the corner of her eye, Sakura noticed the trees planted along the sidewalk were trembling. "He's rather rude." Then he spoke louder, addressing Sai, "Were you the one I smelled before, youngling?"

"Perhaps," Sai replied blithely, "But I'm not interested in old men. Please step aside. I want to speak with Sakura now."

"What the hellis going on?" Ino hissed in her ear as Hashirama and Sai continued to stare each other down. Instead of answering, Sakura gestured with her hand, and the pair began to shuffle backwards.

"So your name is Sakura then?" Hashirama glanced at her over his shoulder. Sakura and Ino froze. There was a muted squeak, but it was hard to say which one of them it came from as he continued to stare at Sakura. The trees were starting to groan now, rocking back and forth as though to break free of their confines. But all she could see were his eyes.

In those eyes, Sakura could hear wind caressing wheat fields and the tumult of leaves as wind wrenched them from trees in autumn. She was the leaves, the wheat, tossed up and left breathless by this creature's every breath. His eyes held warmth, even as they threatened to blow her away, to rip apart everything that was left of her. Her face felt warm, and already she could feel pieces of her resolve crumble, but Sakura found herself unable to break free, to look away.

"No." The young women jumped at the sudden harshness of Hashirama's tone, but he turned back to face Sai. Sakura caught a glimpse of those red lines returning to Hashirama's face. "I may not understand much of this world or why I was brought here, but I will not forgive anything that attempts to bring harm to Sakura. Leave, you're upsetting her."

Sai stopped. "Ah. All right then." As that forced smile fell away, an empty feeling spread in Sakura's stomach. She watched, temporarily frozen as he freed the paintbrush from its holster. The pots at Sai's waist shuddered, black ink dripping out of them and spilling at his feet.

Casting aside any pretense, Sakura once again grabbed Ino by the arm and broke into a run. At the same time, Sai flicked the paintbrush like a conductor, and the ink at his feet lunged at Hashirama.

Sakura didn't stop running. Not when the ground began to shake as trees clashed with rapidly forming warriors of ink. Not when the sound of the clashing was drowned out by screams, both from unlucky passerby and from Ino. Not even once the pair finally reached the safety of Ino's car, peeling away from the carnage spreading behind them.

She would never stop running.


End file.
